I got a sneak preview of the new central London home of the BBC last week. Very nice, though too many "playful" neon banquettes for my taste. Anyhow, it's worth noting that the penthouse level, the swankiest du swank, of this new building has been reserved for Radio 1. At the moment, Radio 1 is housed in a tall but tiny building that – for a station that's both increasingly televisual and in touch with the nation's youth – bears a remarkable similarity to a 1980s job centre. And if you know what I mean, you shouldn't be listening to Radio 1.

Radio 1 had a busy week. First, The Official Chart got visuals. Ta-da! For the final hour, the top 10, we saw Reggie Yates doing his thing. I'm certainly no fan of Yates (his cheesy flirting gives me the fear), but seeing him at work – driving the desk, using the microphone, flipping switches – made me like him more. He isn't just some random teen actor who wandered in front of a camera, after all. Aside from the raw excitement of seeing Reggie in earphones, we got the top 10 videos. (Not even pictures of those from 40 up to 11: get all those Top of the Pops ideas out of your head.) The videos varied between dull and dully sexy. Only Nicki Minaj's and the number one, Gotye's "Somebody That I Used To Know" had any spark about them, and Gotye's is because it's so weirdly old-fashioned. The song itself sounds like it was made by a Frenchman in 1983; the video features body paint. Yates, who chats to every number one artist, talked to Australian Gotye via Skype. Which meant I was watching a radio show on my laptop to see a DJ talking to an artist on his laptop. Radio is very strange these days.

There were also some moves announced on Radio 1, the most significant being the swapping over of Scott Mills's and Greg James's slots. Mills moves to afternoons, Greg to drive. So what? It's a tacit announcement that Scott will never take over Chris Moyles's breakfast show, that Greg James – younger, dafter, bushier-tailed – is the heir apparent. Though if Moyles clings on the way he has been doing, Greg, too, may get too old for breakfast. Plus, he should look over his shoulder at Gemma Cairney. Her move from 1Xtra to Radio 1 weekend mornings is a big one. (Why didn't they get rid of Saturday morning super-bore Vernon Kay? His 1990s Loaded schtick sounds ancient to me, and I'm practically iron age.)

Enough with the youngsters. Back to Radio 4, and The Media Show, offered a gift in James Murdoch's resignation last Wednesday. Steve Hewlett brought in the FT's Ben Fenton, who, with Hewlett, make up the two canniest media journalists in UK newspapers. Their analysis, if you're interested, was just great ("It might have been quite difficult to launch the Sun on Sunday next Sunday," commented Fenton, drily); Vanity Fair's Sarah Ellison provided the US view. Conclusion: James Murdoch is dead in the water and News Corp might get rid of its UK papers, but not yet. No one will buy them "without knowing the extent of the cost of future civil litigation", as the Guardian's Nick Davies coolly put it. The Media Show is on form. As the media goes through that jumping-into-the-blue-unknown moment that the music industry did a few years ago, it provides an excellent analysis of why some bits are crashing faster to earth than others.

Talking of lengthy falls to ground, Recycled Radio opened this week with Nigel Pargetter's "Aaaarrrrgh" (I hope he gets royalties). The programme takes old Radio 4 shows, cuts them up and collages them, to a theme. Last week: Failure. I love this programme, the care that producer Miles Warde takes with his editing. The part that intercut Bill Clinton's confession re Monica Lewinsky with Sheila Hancock on Just A Minute was genius. Though I'd like it more if the word "recycled" didn't pop up so much. Far better for us to stumble on a programme like this and wonder if we might be going mad.